#cuff sweat pants

[beastren]

devilishly handsome peepaw in his new outfit thanks to the transmog mod....

[writers-potion]

Let's Talk About Pacing Our Fight Scenes.

For Fast-Paced Parts:

Short words with single syllables. Immediately > at once/ endeavour > try/ indicate > point at/ investigate > check out.

Short sentences, the shorter the better.

Partial sentences to blaze through multiple senses and actions within a few lines.

Short paragraphs

Lots of verbs.

Few adjectives and adverbs.

Cut down on -ing form of verbs, as it can make words longer

Use simple past tense

Avoid conjunctions and link words.

Avoid internal thought - your characters are irrational, ruthless and in the flow of pure action.

For Slow-Paced Parts:

Use medium/long sentences

the paragraphs are longer: three lines minimum

Include longer words with more syllables

Use adjectives and maybe a couple of adverbs.

Insert the thoughts of the PoV character.

Words for Action Scenes

act, alter, attack, avert, back, block, bang, bash, battle, beat, beg, belt, bend, best, bite, blacken, bleed, blind, blister, blow, blunt, boil, bolt, boot, bore, bow, box, brace, brag, brash, brawl, break, breathe, brush, buck, bulgde, burn, burst, cackle, call, can, carry, cart, carve, catch, check, chop, chuck, clack, clank, clap, clash, claw, clear, cleave, click, cliff, cling, clip, close, club, cock, coil, cold, collar, come, con, connect, corner, cost, count, counter, cover, cower, crack, crackle, cram, crash, crawl, creep, crinkle, cross, crouch, rush, cry, cuff, cull, cup, curl, curse, curve, cusp, cut, dart, dash, deepen, dig, deep, dip, ditch, drive, drop, duck, dump, ede, effect, erect, escape, exert, expect, feint, fight, fire fist, fit, flag, flare, flash, flick, fling, flip, flock, force, gash, gasp, get, gore, grab, grasp, grip, grope, group, hack, harden, heat, help, hit, hop, hurl, hurry, impale, jab, jar, jerk, join, jolt, jump, keep, kick, kill, knee, knock, knot, knuckle, leak, leap, let, lever, lick, lift, lock, loop, lop, plunge, mask, nick, nip, open, oppose, pace, pack, pain, pair, pale, palm, pan, pant, parry, part, pass, paste, pat, peak, peck, pelt, pick, pierce, pile, ping, piss, pit, pivot, plot, pluck, plug, plunge, ply, point, pool, pop, pose, pot, pound, pour, powder, pray, preen, prepare, prey, prick, prickle, print, probe, pry, pull, pulp, pulse, pump, punch, pursue, push, quarry, quarter, quest, race, raise, rake, ram, rap, rasp, rear, retreat, rip, riposte, rivert, roar, rock, roll, rope, round, rouse, run, rush, sap, scale, scalp, scan, score,scream, seek, seep, shake, shape, sharpen, shock, shoot, shop, slap, slap, slash, slice, slick, slip, slit, smash, snap, snare, snatch, snipe, sock, space, spar, spark, speed, spike, spill, spin, spit, splash, spoil, spring, spur, spurt, spy, squirm, stand, steert, step, stick, strap, strike, stuff, suck, support, swat, sweat, sweep, swingm tack, tag, take, target, taste, team, tear, tent, test, thrash, throw, thrust, thud, tick, tide, tilt, time, tire, top, toss, tower, toy, trap, trick, trigger, trip, triumph, trouble, trump, try, tuck, tug, twril, twitch, weaken, wet, whip, whirl, whirr, whoop, whoosh, whop, work, zap, zip.

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[ridingthatd]

𝐒✘𝐗 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄

boss! sukuna, employe! nanami, bodyguard! toji...

what happens when the boss of the company you work in, his right hand employee and his dear bodyguard all desire you?

+18, nsfw, heavy smut, my work is really kinky, three cocks, anal, squirting, cumdump, public sex, nipple play, sex toys (ball gag, vibrator), heavy fingering, heavy spit kink, riding, humping, filthy desires, masturbation, heavy rough sex, a little bit of pet play.

a cumdumpster, a pet play, a sex toy, a hole... that was what you wanted to be, that was what you didn't mind being. you weren't ashamed of it, and you'll never be.

your disgusting desires, your dripping needy pussy, your hunger for their fat delicious cocks. your empty holes needed to be filled, teared by their cocks at any time, at any place.

the feeling of sex was something that you wouldn't trade for billions. the feeling of being boiled alive, the heatness of your skin against their heated skin, the feeling of their sweat dripping from their boiled body to yours as they slam their leaking fat cock into your tight warm pussy. the feeling of their wet tongue sloppily twirling around yours, the feeling of having their warm spit mixed with yours as they suck your tongue in their mouth. the feeling of your perky nipples rubbing against their hard nipples each time they thrust inside your wet cunt, the feeling of your abused, bruised clit brushing against their abdomen each time their sensitive red tip hit your womb, the sound of wet, sloppy smacks filling the room, the sound of the wetness your pussy is gushing out around their cock, dripping down the bed sheets as you make a mess, the feeling of their tongue peaking out to lick the salty tears that was spilling past your eyes, their tongue trailing down leaving a wet trail till they reach your sensitive nipples, immediately wrapping their mouth on it, suckling like a baby in need of milk.

the heated heavy breath, groans, moans fanning against your ear. but what was the best part you may ask? it was when their thick thighs start shaking, trembling, indicating they were close. when they can't control their moans, head burried into your neck their hips going faster and faster, sloppier and sloppier till they slam one last time, curses slip past their red, spit coated lips before they connect your mouth into a wet kiss, their fat cock twitch, throb before you feel a warm liquid squirting inside of your womb, shooting inside of you loads of warm cum as their cock swollen up. as soon as they clam down, breaking off the kiss to stare at the string of spit that was connecting your lips hazily.

but that wasn't enough. that was only a small definition of sex, that was only a small part of your filthiness. that was only the introduction.

you knew better than that, didn't you? you knew better than fucking three man that worked at your company, didn't you? but your needy pussy didn't know better. having three thick cocks ready to breed you, fill your holes with warm cum wasn't something that you could resist?

red messy hair, white unbutton blouse giving you a peak of a tattooed chest, veins and tattood forearms peaking through rolled up cuffes, spread thick thighs under suit pants. pierced eyes watching your every move. how is this man your boss? sukuna ryomen.

"on the floor" his husky firm voice echo through his office. you immediately drop on the floor, on all fours. he leans back his chair, legs man spread as he adjust his huge hard on that was resting on his thigh. his eyes drink you in as he takes in a puff of his cigarette before blowing it out. he free his other hand from his pocket and twirl his finger asking you silently to twirl around.

you listen to what he wants, still on all fours you turn around, your work skirt was hiked up revealing your bare wet pussy and red dildo that was shoved up your pussy he let's out a hiss as he stares at the way your wetness was gushing around the dildo, coating with your juice. from the corner of your eyes, you can see him gripping his fat cock and tugging harshly through his pant.

"crawl" he growls out, lust already filling his voice. you do as he says, swaying your hips seductively as you crawl your way to him, sukuna never broke eye contact with you as he frees his cock. you whimper once you see the way it springs, his red tip leaking with precum as he squeeze it hard with his hand.

once you're close enough that your heated breath is fanning against his fat cock, sukuna groan out. "spit". you clench your thighs as you suck all the saliva in your mouth, collecting it before you open your mouth and spit out directly on his sensitive clit. staring at the string of spit landing on his tip before he harshly huffs and start stroking his cock against your face.

you whine staring hungrily at the way he's beating his leaking cock as your pussy start throbbing around the dildo, needing some fraction. sukuna slowly lean back again and spread his long legs, before he slips his leather shoes under your pussy. your eyes roll back at his next filthy words.

"squirt on my leg you fucking slut" you don't hesitate once you start grinding against his shoe, the feeling of the cold leather against your clit was to good, to good. sukuna groans as he stare at the way your wetness immediately start coating his shoes, dripping down the office floor. you scream into the ceiling once sukuna start bouncing his leg up into your pussy.

"cum! cum! cum! you fucking whore" sukuna growls leaning close to you as his cock start shooting robs of cum directly on your face. your whole body shake as you feel his warm seeds hitting your face, you whine before a hot stream gush out of you, dripping into his shoes.

but that was only the start wasn't it?

styled blonde hair, manly long nose, huge biceps peaking through fitted blouse. a perfect employee wasn't he? nanami kento.

you snap out of your nap as you started to feel something hot, twitching against your lips, the taste of familiar saltiness hitting your taste buds followed by groans and heavy breathing. you slowly open your eyes just to see your employee.

nanami kento, with his thick cock out, and pretty red tip on your lips, leaking as he stroke it against your mouth. his usual styled hair was messy against his forehead as sweat slip past. you can tell he was close by how his whole body was flushed. he clearly didn't notice you were awake yet, to lost in his own pleasure, his eyes rolled back as he sloppily stroke his red tip against your lips.

you decided to tease him by slowly trailing your tongue against his clit causing him to groan out before snapping his eyes to you, jaw clenched before he can say anything you immediately shove his whole cock down your throat, locking it in. nanami harshly grab you by your hair, fisting it, hitting the back of your throat. as you gag around him, tears already slipping past your eyes from how big he was.

nanami groan one last time before he shoots his seeds inside your throat. you make sure to swallow every single drop. you smirk at him cheekily but soon enough it was turned into a gasp as nanami bend you over the desk. rolling up your skirt and slapping your plumpy ass hard.

you whine, nanami hard rough hands, and it stings so bad with each slap but you couldn't help the way wetness starting gushing out of you causing nanami to tsk.

"tsk you like that you fucking slut yea?" he harshly breath out next to your ear before slapping your ass two times in a row. you were sobbing at this point, wanting nothing more than for it to stop and not stop at the same time. nanami kneels down next to your ass before he dives in.

you immediately moan out, pushing your ass into him, his tongue was restless as it moves from your ass to your clit, licking every inch of you, not stopping till you're squirting on his face.

was it enough or one more wouldn't hurt right?

muscles covered every inch of him, a sexy scar on the left side of his mouth, black suit on. a bodyguard like him? toji fushiguro.

the black tinted car was shaking, creaking, toji didn't have any mercy on your poor little pussy. holding your perky ass cheeks between his large hands, as he slams you up and down his fat cock. not caring that your screams were loud enough to be heard by the entire neighbor.

your pussy was clenching hard around his cock, enveloping him each time he shoves his fat cock in. your wetness coated his dick, dripping down his balls. your screams were loud, even after he shoved a gag ball inside your mouth, your drool was coating it, you looked so fucked out of it.

"good girl, good fucking girl" toji darkly speak out as stare at the way your wetness is spurting all over his cock, hitting the leather car seat. your breath hitch as you see someone moving outside the car, leaning against the window as they smoke their cigarette.

but that doesn't stop toji from slamming your tits into the tinted windows, directly where the guy was leaning. his large hand muffling your moans. as his cock thrust inside of you.

the feeling of your hard, sensitive nipples brushing against the cold window- the same window the guy was leaning on, having no clue of what's happening inside of the car. having no clue that you were being fucked.

it all seems to overwhelm you as your hips shudder and arch, squirting directly on the window. "yes! give it to me, give it to me!". toji whispers harshly in your ear. dragging your orgasm by pinching your clit between his fingers.

toji eyes roll back his skull as he feels the way your wetness was filling his car, from his car seats to his window, to the way it drenched his pants. he slam you against him one last time before locking you in. cumming inside of your abused little pussy, gently shushing you as you whine from how sensitive you were.

was it enough yet? having secret affairs with the three of them. or maybe you were greedy enough to want three of their cocks at the same time.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: implied noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, predator x prey

gn reader

There’s nothing cuter than an Omega that doesn't know their place... 

You’re an amusing little thing. Infinitely inferior and still trying to get away even though he’s stronger and faster and smarter in every way – trying ever so desperately anyway, despite knowing it’s pointless – how it will only end up with you tripping on your own tail and falling right back into his claws.

Silly little mate…

He can hear your heart beating. Desperately trying to supply your aching limbs as you sprint like death is on your heels. 

He can hear your feet thump against the forest floor – each step clumsier than the former, turning sloppy and ever slower.

He can hear your breaths. Raw lungs burning, panting shallowly, catching in your throat as you choke on your tears.

Scrambling through the pines like prey – hair unruly and getting caught on the passing branches ripping at your face, picking yourself up each time your feet catch in the thick roots that lay coiled and curled like serpents in the dirt – feeling as if even the forest knows to punish you for being an Omega trying to deny and Alpha his rights.

He can tell your muscles are screaming at you now, begging for a break, pleading with you to take your chances and hide instead – even though you know it won’t do you any good when he can sniff out your scent – that though he can applaud the effort, running was already foolish enough on its own.

He’s barely breaking a sweat – right on your tail. His chuckles bounce off the trunks in mocking echoes – haunting you as you drain for energy second after meager second, knowing there’ll only be a short moment left until you hear the last laugh and feel the white pain of his teeth sinking into the flesh of your neck.

You still find the energy to fight him, even when he has you pinned into the moss bed with the sky-scratching trees looming above you – the stars like onlookers, like an audience – the full moon too, like a god watching its cruel fate take place. 

But you refuse to bow, even as he cuffs your wrists inside his almighty fist, pushing them into the mud – keeping you down and beneath him – your pretty face contorted into a snarl, fangs flashed at him with swivel-eyes livid and bleeding with crazed wilderness.

You sure are a funny little mate.

He looks forward to taming you.

BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Hawks, Enji, Aizawa

JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Toji

DS – Doma, Sanemi

HxH – Illumi, Uvogin

[stanswifeirl]

NERD GETS APPRECIATED AND WHIPS IT OUT!

notes: cross-posted on my ao3!

contains: stanford pines x gn!reader

warning: masturbation, some self depreciating talk, him feeling guilty about thinking about you while he jerks it

Glass Shard Beach was rarely kind to him, and there were few normal scenarios he could recall throughout his life.

But now? Here he was, reduced to a stuttering, nervous wreck at the simple words of praise that seemed to flow from your mouth with ease, just like the process of diffusion with non-polar molecules (which, for your information, is pretty damn easy).

This type of reaction is expected, he thinks. How often did a guy find someone as attractive as you in a Fifth Dimensional Calculus class? Of course you would attract his attention!

He didn't like to audibly put down the work done at Backupsmore University, but it wasn't often he'd find someone so... smart. Maybe well-read is a better word? Someone who viewed his work not only with interest, but from a new perspective.

It was dangerous. The way your voice filled the space with intelligent dialogue made him wish it was the only sound he ever heard. The way your scent made him lose focus on his work whenever you leaned in to assist him on a project was simply intoxicating.

He could think up plenty of flowery phrases to describe what he's feeling... Actually expressing them was where his expertise fell short.

To put it simply, the guy was head over heels, and he didn't know how to handle it.

Inviting you to conduct research for class was probably the worst possible decision he could've made. It was absolutely thrilling to spend an afternoon with you, but the growing tightness in his pants only proved to sully his mood. He was sure you noticed. There was no way you didn't, even if you decided to carry on like you didn't know what you were doing to him. Surely, he couldn't be the only one feeling the chemistry!

He didn't know how you worked up the courage to call him sweet names, or pat his shoulder politely at the end of the night when he dropped you off in front of your apartment complex.

More than thankful for the dim lighting, he was only able to mumble out a hurried "Goodbye!" before slamming his foot down on the gas pedal, ready to get the hell outta there.

Ford drives, things pressed tightly together in shame, into an empty parking lot. He parks.

"Sweet Moses." He whines into his hands, patting down drops of sweat with the cuff of his shirt. "Goodness. I'm horrible. You don't deserve this. God, I can't believe I'm..."

His hand shoots for his pocket, pulling out a 38 sided die. To freak, or not to freak? That was the question. He squirms uncomfortably in his seat, closes his eyes, and takes a breath.

Ford mentally cringes it when he rolls it onto his dashboard, realizing how lame he must look as he uses his game dice to decide on if he should masturbate or not.

Mind running a mile a minute, the poor guy was always a bit too self aware of his actions, he realizes how lame he looks allowing a dice roll to tell him whether he's allowed to jerk off or not.

His face scrunches up in disgust as he unzips his pants, hand hesitantly hovering over his painfully erect dick.

"This is so embarrassing." He groans, feeling the length of his dick as it twitches under his touch.

Ford’s face flushes as he slowly moves his hand up and down, humiliated. His back straightens as his thumb brushes over the head, already leaking in precum.

He grits his teeth, feeling his face burning hot with shame as he strokes himself to the thought of you. As much as he admires your fiercely intelligent mind, he can't help but be captivated by how fucking hot you are.

Leaning back in his seat, his eyes flutter closed as he imagines hands brushing against his skin, comforting eyes looking up at him in that way that made him feel so, so safe. His hand moves faster as his breathing grows ragged.

"God, I'm such a loser." He whispers to himself, face growing hot as he realizes how pathetic he sounds.

Would you still look at him like that if you knew what was happening right now? Would you enjoy it? Maybe you'd entertain him. He'd like that.

Oh. Oh. That idea really sticks with him.

Your presence always seemed so commanding. So sure of yourself. Maybe, he hopes, you'd like taking charge of him when he was at his most vulnerable.

His back arches as he bucks into his hand, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to imagine it was you touching him. He should be allowed to indulge a little, shouldn't he? He doesn't know anymore.

It's almost this primal instinct that keep his thoughts out of logic mode, and far more acutely aware on the shockwaves of pleasure coursing throughout his body.

His chest feels tight as he imagines your hand slowly running up and down the base, teasing the head. Tears prick up in the corners of his eyes as picture after picture of you enter his mind.

He curses, stuttering your name as he twists his hand, quickening his pace.

"Thank you." He chokes out, face burning in humiliation as he feels his orgasm building. He didn't mean to think if you this way— the least he could do was thank the image of you.

His head slams back into his seat as he reaches his climax, body trembling as his hand and car floor is stained with long ropes of cum. The mind fog quickly clears, and makes quick work of grabbing tissues from the glove compartment to clean his mess up.

Ew. He'd have to clean properly in the morning.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Twenty

Steve gets dressed fast, his brain kind of fixating on the memory of Eddie’s...penis? Wriggling it’s way across his skin. The way the head or...face, had slowly started to open up.

Jesus Christ.

They can just never have sex. Or be naked together. Ever. That’s fine. That’s absolutely the most normal and logical way to play this. Steve stops, one leg in and one leg out of his pants...what if it bites?

“Stee love?” Eddie’s still wrapped in a towel, wearing it kind of toga style, wrapped firmly under his armpits. He already has his hat back on. He’s fidgeting with the edge of the material.

Eddie used to be half fish anyway, so it’s not like Steve was expecting an involved sexual relationship when...when he thought Eddie was going to die. Steve feels like absolute shit for thinking it, but there was never any commitment before, their relationship had a very definite end. Which, yes, okay, had the positive effect of Steve just...completely by passing any kind of sexuality crisis.

Or species crisis.

But now...now he’s in it for the long haul. And Eddie may want intimacy. Hell, Steve would quite like some intimacy. When Eddie just had a...well, a parting, like a girl, Steve hadn’t given it much thought really, Eddie’s only just freshly legged. Eddie only just now has a real life span. Steve just kind of figured they'd...work something out at some point.

They are probably still going to have to do that.

“Stee love?” Eddie asks again, more quietly this time, uncertain. Steve hates that he’s probably the cause of that.

He still wants the defense of pants though, right now, while he...processes things.

“Right, Yeah,” Steve forces his brain back on line; whatever that was, Eddie was fine with it. And it’s a part of Eddie, clearly...so. Steve needs to just get over this real fast, “what do you want to wear? You can choose.”

“Choose,” Eddie goes to the closet, pulling out some draw string sweat pants and the sweater Joyce made for him.

He takes the towel off, leaving it on the bottom of the bed. The slit is clearly closed; Steve can’t see any evidence of anything. He’s so entranced, staring at the space between Eddie’s legs, that Eddie manages to get a leg in before Steve thinks to intervene, “wait, baby, boxers first.”

Steve gets them, Eddie pulling his leg out, turning the pants inside out in the process. He puts the boxers on backwards, but Steve figures it doesn’t matter since he’s got to sit to pee anyway. Eddie’s clearly confused by one leg being inside out, so Steve helps him fix it.

Watching Eddie put on the sweater is a bit of an experience, it starts off going on over his head sideways, one arm hanging from Eddie’s chest, so Eddie twists and sticks an arm in there, forcing it to straighten before he puts the other one in.

“Uhm,” Steve says, staring at the fully six inches of belly buttonless exposed midriff Eddie’s left with, “maybe we should put a tee shirt on underneath.”

“Underneath,” Eddie cocks his head.

Steve gets him a shirt, helping him back out of the sweater, into the tee shirt, then back into the sweater. The shirt is pastel blue, the sweat pants gray, the sweater red and green. It’s a bit of a look, especially with the bobble hat, but Eddie grins big as Steve finishes dressing himself. Eddie watches closely as Steve puts his socks on, and then goes and gets himself a balled up pair from the drawer.

He sits on the edge of the bed, next to Steve, unballing the socks, one immediately falling to the floor, Eddie clearly not expecting what would happen as he unraveled them. He gets them on okay, apart from one being upside down, so the heel is on the top of his foot. He’s pulled both of them up over the top of the ankle cuffs of his pants.

“My boyfriend is a fashion disaster,” Steve comes to terms with it pretty fast; it’s just Eddie being...Eddie.

“Called boyfriend? Called...fashion disaster?” Eddie sounds the words out carefully.

“Oh boy,” Steve sighs, “here, let me at least fix the socks,” Steve kneels, twisting one sock the right way around and then pulling the cuffs of his pants out so they’re over the top. It reminds him of the ring, kneeling in front of Eddie like this; Steve touches it, where Eddie’s hands rest on his thighs. He might not of exactly intentionally put the ring on that finger in the moment, but now that he realizes what he’s done he definitely likes it. “Boyfriends means I love you, and you love me.”

Eddie nods.

“It’s not the same as friend love...so I love Birdie, but it’s different, to how I love you...I won’t kiss anyone, except you, you understand? I love Birdie, and the kids, and Nancy and John and Joyce and...Hopper, I guess. I love them and I care about them, but…”

“Love Eddidie more good.”

“Yeah, yeah baby.”

Eddie nods, “Eddidie love Stee. Perfect love. Kiss Stee. Not kiss not Stee,” Eddie’s so earnest as he looks down at Steve. His eyes are much better, only vague traces of where they were bloodshot, the lids no longer red or swollen.

Steve snorts a laugh, “so you won’t kiss anyone else,” he says slowly, “you won’t kiss other people.”

“People. Stee. Eddidie. Kids. Hopper. El. Joyce…”

“All,” Steve makes a large encompassing gesture with his hands, “all people.”

“Not kiss all people. Kiss Stee,” Eddie tells him, almost desperate, “love Stee.”

“Love you too baby.”

Eddie’s face crumples for a moment, and for that horrible second Steve thinks Eddie’s going to cry, he certainly looks on the verge of it, big brown eyes liquid, when he says, “Eddidie sorry.”

“Sorry for what baby?” Steve rubs at Eddie’s thigh through the material of his sweat pants, trying to comfort him.

“Eddidie different.”

“I...yeah. Yeah but it’s okay, it’s fine-”

“Not. Stee scared.”

Steve sighs, well fuck, he thinks. “I was just…you are different, okay. But it’s fine, okay, it’s good, I was just...surprised. Okay? Not bad. Not bad I promise.”

“Perfect true? Promise? Eddidie not bad?”

“You’re not bad. I promise okay, it’s fine. It’s fine.”

“Touch more? Kiss?” Eddie asks uncertainly, and for the first time ever, Eddie won’t look at Steve when he speaks. He’s staring down at his own knees instead. It guts Steve a little.

“I...yeah. Yeah...later?”

“Today?” Eddie looks up, so earnest still.

He clearly needs reassurance and Steve feels like an absolute shit for making Eddie feel this way. He really didn’t mean to, his response was pure instinct, he really had no control over it, “maybe today...maybe tomorrow? Soon, okay. I promise soon.”

Eddie nods in agreement, but he looks...wilted.

“Come on, you wanted cobbler? And we can watch ‘Splash’?” Steve knows it’s distraction through bribery, but he just needs a little time to process.

Eddie brightens immediately, nodding, “cobbler many good.”

Tom Hanks is under a table, trying to dry Daryl Hannah’s mermaid tail away with his dress tie. Eddie is fascinated. He’s sitting forward in his seat, watching, enraptured.

The phone rings, but Eddie barely registers it, so Steve leaves him to it.

“Hey kid it’s Hopper, you still want a ride to your appointment tomorrow?”

And actually, Steve had more or less forgotten, “uhm...no, I think I’ll be okay,” Steve’s pretty sure he’s up for driving, he can get a shoe on no issue now as long as he’s careful.

“All right, I’m going to need some I.D. photos of Eddie for his documents, think you can manage that?”

“Yeah, yeah Hop, should be able to do that tomorrow. We need groceries anyway.”

“Right, well don’t forget he can’t wear that hat in the photos.”

Shit, Steve thinks, “might have to wait then, I mean his ears are kind of pointy.”

Hopper hums, “what about a wig? Like a fancy dress one that looks like his hair, just for the photos?”

“That...could work, but where-”

Hopper sighs down the phone, and it sounds like it pains him to admit, “I might have something.”

“Again?” Eddie asks, the second the film finishes, “Madison good.”

“Later baby, Joyce is coming over.”

Eddie immediately perks up, “Christmas food?”

Steve laughs, “no, something else, but are you hungry?” Eddie nods, “okay, I can make us something quick.”

“Here honey, sit down,” Joyce indicates a chair for Eddie, “I’m not sure how well this will curl, but if I just spray it down and twist it up, it might be curly tomorrow.”

Eddie sits, letting Joyce fit the wig on his head. It’s obviously false, and nothing like Eddie’s real hair, but the transformation is still immediate. It makes Eddie look healthier, more like himself. Joyce hums to herself as she brushes it out, Eddie fiddling with the ends.

“And why do you have this?”

“I told you kid, no questions.”

“Oh don’t be such a grouch Hop,” Joyce chastises him, smiling, “we went to a costume party for Halloween, we were Sonny and Cher.”

Steve can’t help the shit eating grin he turns on Hopper, “of course you were,” Hopper just rolls his eyes and mooches a beer out of the fridge.

“Eddie I’m going to cut some off this okay? I’ll try and get it about right for you okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, sounding bemused, “thank you Joyce.”

“Such good manners honey, you’re very welcome.”

“Called manners?”

“Oh...well it mean you always remember to say please and thank you.”

“Please and thank you.”

Steve watches them chatting away, vaguely listening to them talk as Joyce asks Eddie which were his favorite parts of Christmas; she seems genuinely thrilled that Eddie is wearing the sweater she made.

Hopper’s leaning against the counter with his beer, “kid we gotta do something about the pool.”

For a moment, the words resurface a truly horrific set of memories that bring Steve up short. Just for a second, he almost can’t breathe, and then it passes, “look Hop, that day, I’m...I shouldn’t have shouted, the way that I did-”

“Kid, I’m old enough to know when I was wrong,” he looks over at where Joyce is snipping bits off Eddie’s ‘hair,’ “and I was wrong.”

Steve looks out the window with Hopper; it’s cold out there, a thin layer of fresh snow decorates the lawn with patchy white splotches. Steve can see what Hopper means though; Steve’s pool chair is nearly black with vines. Hopper moves, clearly intending to head out there; Steve heads into the hall, slipping on his sneakers carefully and grabbing a jacket and some gloves.

He meets Hopper, looking down at the vines and the shitty murky crap in the bottom; Hopper flicks his cigarette end into the muck.

He sighs, “what you got in the shed?”

They had drained the pool as much as they could, but the pump soon started to protest the sludge, so they turned it off and then Steve ran it through with buckets of clean water from the hose. Hopper’s in there, double layers of trash bags taped to his thighs and a bandana mask over his mouth and nose. Joyce and Eddie have a shovel and a fork between them, standing on the pool edge, scraping the vines off the edge and the tiles so they drop into the black muck at the bottom. They’re dead and brittle, snapping and breaking off easily, leaving little puffs of grey dust to float down after the chunks fall.

Steve runs back and forth, sneakers dirty as he goes as far in as he dares, shoveling and moving buckets and then the wheelbarrow to Hopper’s instruction. There’s a clear set of footprints and wheel marks across the lawn and snow, into the trees where Steve’s been dumping all this is in the hopes the melting snow and rain will wash it all away.

They work for a couple of hours before the dark finally drives them back inside, but the pool does look much improved. Steve figures if he can get out there in the day and spend a good few hours on it, he could definitely clear the worst of it. It’s gross, but no where near as deep as Steve feared it would be.

“Once we get near to the end we can put a couple of feet of water in, then just get in and scrub and the pump should do the rest,” Hopper tells him, “you got your appointment tomorrow, but I’ll drop by the day after?”

“Thanks...thanks so much Hopper, I really really appreciate this.”

Hopper shrugs, “I’ll bring Jon, he can help.”

“Thank you Hopper,” Eddie tells him, too.

“Kid, really, it’s fine. No pine cones necessary.”

Part TwentyTwo

[devilstruly]

SUB (?) JASON TODD (18+)

pairing - red hood x fem reader

includes - bondage (m), masturbation, vouyerism, riding, sub turning to dom (if that's not a thing it is now), pet names (princess bc jason is 100% a princess guy and i will die on this hill)

a/n - i think about this man 24/7 i have nothing to say for myself

Imagine tying this 6'5 man down to a chair. it's near the bed, angled just right so he can see everything you're doing. Now you're no fool, tying him down with something as weak as a rope simply won't do.

So you do the next best thing, two sets of handcuffs, not the cheap ones, the actual metal ones that have a key, currently hanging on a chain around your neck. A chain that he gifted you and that he's sure you wore on purpose.

Anywho, he’s sitting in his Red Hood suit, helmet and jacket off, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, cock straining painfully against his pants.

'Eyes on me, Jay, c'mon. I'm doing this for you.'

Your voice is an octave higher and you barely manage a full sentence due to your ragged breathing.

Jason groans, growls more like it, eyes narrowing at you.

'You're playing dirty, princess.' He grits out, arms flexing and hands clenching into fists.

'Who? Me?' You bite your lip to suppress a moan as you curl your fingers. 'Dunno what you're talking about.'

His eyes watch like a hawk when your thighs flex and shake, your head thrown back in a loud moan of his name.

He curses violently, tugging at the restraints for the milionth time. The keys jiggle with your breasts as you move from the bed slowly, throwing your legs over his to effectively straddle him.

Jason's eyes don't leave your body for even a second, completely in a trance. It's only when you hook a finger under his chin and force him to look you in the eyes that he regains focus.

'You're driving me fucking insane, I hope you know that.'

The admission makes you smile, almost seductively and Jason swears he feels his dick twitch in his pants.

You start grinding on him slowly, spelling his name with your hips. His eyes roll back in ecstasy, strings of curses leaving him between breathless moans and whimpers.

He takes one look at the keys between your breasts, deciding he's had enough of your games. Taking you by surprise he leans forward and snaps the chain using his teeth.

Somehow he manages to take it in one of his hands, quickly escaping the first set of cuffs.

'Hey! No fair-'

You protest, still straddling him, hands on his chest. Jason merely grunts as he unlocks the other pair in record speed, hands flying to your hips immediately.

'You've been in charge enough, princess. Now it's my turn.'

His eyes are blown with lust as they rake over your figure and the small pout on your face.

'But I wanted to- Ah!'

Any complaints you might have had are shut down immediately when he starts moving you at a pace he likes, a loud sigh of relief escaping him.

'You were saying?'

[4law]

Law and BONDAGE (seastone handcuffs)

𝐋𝐀𝐖 + 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐄 & 𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐒𝐌 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐋.

18+ MDNI. fellatio, teasing, bondage (cuffs), orgasm denial, f!reader/ described as pretty & innocent

“s-slow down—fuck,” law groans from where he’s laying in front of you, built thighs spread to make room for you in the center, your head bobbing up and down his length. you’re drawing the most sinful groans from him with each sloppy noise you make, your tongue teasing the tip once you reach the top.

“hey— listen to me,” he growls, his usual demanding tone now sounding like a desperate plea. the seastone cuffs above him clang together as his abs flex from the stimulation, glaring hard at you when you glance up at him through your pretty lashes.

he’s sure that an innocent face like that doesn’t suit the way you’re making him feel.

“hmm?” your words come out muffled with his length down your throat. “don’ wanna stop.”

his jaw is clenching harder, head thrown back as his chest rises up and down from the panting. the tension building up inside him is so intense, and it just makes him that much more desperate to touch you— grab a fistful of hair as he flips you around and dumps his cum in you.

the ripple of his flexed muscles is more apparent as he roughly tugs at the seastone cuffs a second time, grunting in frustration when his arms are pulled right back. if you weren’t so focused on driving him mad with your tongue, you spend more time running your fingers along the tattoos coated in a thin layer of sweat and watch the way he contorts under your touch.

law groans loudly as his hips begin to stutter, cock threatening to spill his load inside, when you suddenly stop— his release melting away before he had even realized it.

“w-what…” his voice comes out raspy, “do you think you’re doing?”

your mouth lets go with a loud pop, tongue coming to playfully lick up and down his length as he shivers, and the look you’re giving him is so innocent he thinks it would be cute in any other situation. “oh..sorry,” you giggle, “guess i got tired.”

he narrows his eyes at you, tugging hard against the cuffs as you giggle, back of your hand coming to cover your lips. “lose that smile and get me out,” he glares at you through labored breaths, “i’ll show you what happens when you use me for your little games.”

[emmyrosee]

Cate hate kageyama and that’s canon!!! Imagine reader bringing home a kitten (assuming that it was born in the shelter so they had any interaction with the strays )and its the first ever cat that reciprocated tobio’s affection 🤭 our baby boy would probably bawl her eyes out hsjsndvdvs

GOD MY POOR BABY NOOOOOO

You’d passed the little fuzzball completely by chance driving home from the bakery, breakfast sandwiches in a brown bag in the passenger seat next to you. You slam on your breaks as hard as you can, completely oblivious to the other drivers blaring their horns at you.

A tiny grey cat, pawing at a toy in front of the window, with the sweetest little face you’ve ever seen. Your jaw slacks as you coo in your car, hands clutching your chest.

You immediately whip out your phone, snap a picture of the little ball of fur, and send it to Tobio.

SENT tell me not to get a cat

tobio 🩵 ok

don’t get a cat

SENT but tobioooooooouhhhhh

tobio 🩵 we don’t have room for a cat

SENT we can make room

tobio 🩵 why would you tell me to tell you to not get a cat

if you’re going to argue that we should get a cat

SENT f u I’m getting this cat

tobio 🩵 DO NOT. GET. THE CAT.

Needless to say, your breakfast sandwiches, now cold and soggy, rest in one hand, the other hand grasping a small carrier case, a tiny kitten inside looking around curiously at the changes in scenery. You excitedly drive home, talking to the small cat about Tobio, where the kitten will be sleeping, and how he’s going to be hesitant at first, but will grow to adore her.

It’s his adoration of you that’s in jeopardy right now.

You pull up home much later than you’d originally left for, and you brace yourself for the worst as you haul the kitten and sandwiches up the stairs to your front door, struggling with it briefly before coming face to face with a pouting Tobio.

“No thanks, wasn’t hungry at all,” he grumbles.

You merely rock back and forth on your feet, “you’ll forgive me once you meet our new addition.”

He rolls his eyes, “so I tell you no cat, and you immediately hear ‘buy the cat’?”

“Yes.” You open the small carrier case and allow the tiny cat to creep out on her own time, sniffing the air and looking up at you both in intrigue.

Then, she makes a beeline for Tobio’s pants. And starts to fiddle with it.

“Cats don’t like me,” he scoffs, reaching for the bag of barely edible breakfast sandwiches.

“What!” You say incredulously. “That’s ridiculous, cats like everyone!”

“First of all, no, they don’t,” he says, trying to ignore the kitten clawing his pajama pants. “Cats are notorious for hating people and hating their company. Secondly, every cat I’ve met has bit or clawed or hissed at me. Hell, look at this one-“ he gestures his hand down to the little cat chewing the cuff of his sweats. “Trying to bite me and shit.”

You lean over to press a kiss to his cheek, “if she wanted to bite you, baby, she would’ve. Come here,” you gently scoop the kitten into your hands, “just pet her.”

“Shes going to scratch my eye out.”

“And I’ll love you all the same.”

Hesitantly, he reaches out to let the cat sniff his fingers, and once she does, she rubs her tiny face against him, purring softly. You beam, “see? She likes you!”

“She doesn’t know what she likes,” he grumbles. Regardless, he continues to rub his thumb over her head, the size contrast making you swoon. “….she is real damn cute though.”

“See?” You say happily. “And she does like you. See how she’s angling into your touch?”

He blinks his blue eyes down at the kitten, her eyes fluttered closed the longer he lingers his touch back and forth over the pattern on top of her head. He cracks a smile, a small one, and you feel your heart soar.

“Fine,” he says, smiling at the cat. “We can keep her.”

“YESSSS!”

“But you’re cleaning her shit. They may hate people but they’re also fucking feral creatures.”

“Just like you?” You ask, and his face drops.

“One time. ONE TIME I forget to flush the toilet, never hear the end of it.”

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

CLAY BERESFORD has to sit down when he gets too exhilarated. When life moves too fast, his heart can’t take it. Breath quickens, eyes haze. He used to power through it, and that’d only make it worse. Now he’s learned the signs, knows to catch it early. The first time you’d kissed him, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stand. A flock of butterflies inhabited his insides, frenzying in a flurry whenever he’d remember what it felt like to touch your lips on his. At that point, he’d believed his heart condition was common knowledge. His mother, his associates, his friends, all constantly brought it up. But you, you were genuinely caught off guard, catching him tenderly ‘round the arm when he’d shown signs of fatigue. Gentle as you could be, you softened the impact to his seat when his legs gave out.

“It, uh, it’s fine. I’ll be fine,” he had rambled, fishing out his meds from his pocket. His trembling hands struggled against the top, but you were there to loosen it for him. You had sat with him until he was ready. He’d never thought hovering around him could be so romantic, especially since he’s not one to care for smothering.

Now, it’s marginally manageable. That thrill he avoids occasionally hits him at the peak of love-making. You can read him, you can see the signals clearly written on him. In the ways he tips his head back, mouth agape to take in more oxygen, how his eyes glaze over, and his grip loosens. There’s less of his attention to go around. You can hear the strain in his grunts; there’s a stutter in his hips, he’s pushing himself too hard while he pushes himself inside you.

“Clay,” you warn, “slow down. It’s happening again.” Your claws brace against his rotator cuff, directing him to back up which he ignores. His body continues to roll, his tip brushing that spongy spot inside you. Regardless if it feels good, if the sheen of sweat on your skin is a result of ardently chasing your lusts, you can’t let him do this to himself again.

“No, no,” he objects, “I can do it this time. I can do it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, crying out over how he hardens his pace instead of receding it. It weakens your muscle in fighting him off. If you can just sever the connection, he’ll remember, he’ll calm down and take a breather. “Clay!”

But you can’t fend him off.

His forehead drops to your shoulder, alerting you to open your eyes. You don’t bother noticing anything else. “Clay? Clay? Are you alright? Talk to me,” Newfound strength floods you, rolling him over to straddle him, his arm thrown haphazardly above his head. His heavy lidded gaze flutters as you pat at his face. “Baby? Speak to me, can you hear me?”

He hums. A low, gravely drawl as his hands venture to your hips. “Baby,” he drags out each of these word, “Fuck… baby, so good.” The air in his chest rapidly falls, panting. You know this isn’t right, yet he makes decisions for you, digging his fingers into the plush of your flesh as he moves you back and forth. His cock fully seated inside you while it brushes your insides.

“Wait, but you’re—“ you protest, but it’s unconvincing. There’s few things you enjoy more than sitting on every inch of his length, the new angle granting you electric shocks up your spine with each rock.

“Feeling so good, my love. Better than I ever have. Better than I ever will.” his sweet words mean the world to you, his soft smile adorning his handsome features as he peeks slyly at you through the narrow sliver of his lids. “Don’t make me stop. Please? I don’t wanna stop.” How can you refuse him?

You figure it’s less pressure on him to be underneath you; you feel more secure in riding him like this. So you move his hands up, allowing them to handle your torso while you do the work. He sits back, and looks pretty for you, while you use him up.

[burntchez]

(Possessive! Wriothesley x Male! Reader Smut)

Note: This is basically the 2nd part for my Possessive! Wriothesley x Reader fic I posted on Youtube but this time the 2nd part is for male readers! My apologies I couldn't make a female reader version or at least Gender Neutral. I'm (kind of) experienced in writing Male Reader content bc I'm a male myself.

(This contains: Smut (duh), Breeding, spanking, cuffs)

"Are we really doing it here..?" Asked the smaller male. The Duke's lips curled into a mischiveous smirk, his hands travelling the body of the man below him. Arms beneath the uniform, lips close to the delectable neck. "Why not here? This is my office, and I see no problem of doing such... Thing here. Besides, I know you've been wanting this." Wriothesley whispered to the boy beneath him, enjoying the sight of him being vulnerable. You couldn't respond due to the intimate sensation crawling up his sensitive skin, his mouth only letting out whines and whimpers. By now, he was impatient. He wanted to show you how bad he misses you. He wanted to mark you as his.

Screams and moans filled the room as the two of you carried onto your session. Sounds of skin slapping synchronized with the moans you let out. "If you don't want your voice to be heard from outside, then I suggest you bear with this and stay quiet while I..." He pauses and thrusts. "Enjoy this." Wriothesley whispered to him with a husky voice. "Besides, I know you also enjoy this. I know you've wanted this." He commented between pants. "Y-you wanted this! It was not my idea to be fucked!" You scolded. The Warden can only let out a low chuckle as he heard your words, "Oh yeah.". Suddenly, a hand came striking down to your ass, making a loud slap on contact and leaving red print of his hand. A loud moan escaped your lips, followed by whimpers. Wriothesley can only sadistically watch you be lost in painful pleasure with a cruel smile as he continued thrusting into you. His whole length buried to the hilt as he unsheathed and thrusted himself in. "You look so good when you're beneath me. Wrists cuffed, lying on my desk, legs spread, perfect for me. Not to mention your hole taking me in!" He growled, eyes gazing to the sweating skin of your body. Admiring how powerless you are beneath him. "Fuck, I want to see you completely ravaged, now." Wriothesley let his desires take over and increase his pace, his thrusts violating your ass like hammer striking an anvil. His hand gripped tightly on your wrists while the other played with your sensitive nipples, flicking and toying on the nubs. His eyes observed you, how your eyes rolled back and try to lower your cute sounds, how your ass takes him in easily, and your little cock that was left twitching and sobbing precum. It all fuel his desire for you, to own you, to make you his own man. "I don't care if the others knows about this. I need to mark this body of yours with my cum!" Wriothesley growled with a husky voice before attacking your neck, drawing another cute cry from your lips. You felt his teeth biting onto your neck and shoulder while also giving it kisses. Wriothesley's thrusts accelerated, plunging deeper into your wet hole, trying to milk his cock into filling you up with his warm cum.

"O-oh fuck! T-too fast!~ I-i'm gonna-" "Cum?" Wriothesley finished your sentence as he withdrew from your marked neck. He towered over your messy figure, proud of what he made of you. "Hold it in for a few more seconds boy, I'm close too." After his command, he increased the pace of his thrusts. His cock plunging into you at a restless place, eliciting a long messy moan from you. The way your head drew back and how your body responds to his thrusts, it all fueled him, he needed to make you his. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Take it all boy! I'll make you never forget who owns you and this ass!" With one fatal thrust, his cock thrusted into your insides and unleashed a massive load of cum that he saved up for your return. His climax hit him like a tidal wave, just like yours. Your cock spurted out white ropes of cum and came all over Wriothesley's abs and on your stomach.

As you two took gasps and breath after a rough sex, Wriothesley gave you a kiss on the lips, affectionate and desiring. After a few seconds of intimate kissing, you decided to break it and take another breather. Wriothesley watched your exhausted state with a satisfied smirk and embraced you with his cock still inside you, ensuring that no cum seeps out and preserving his mark inside you.

"How is that for a 'welcome back'?"

"I've been gone for 2 weeks!"

"I know, but I still miss you~"

[sauvhffp]

★ | glass box

drabble w/@sooniebby 's original character!

sypnosis: you come home drunk from a team celebration with your co-workers. your boyfriend doesn't like it, he doesn't like that others has seen you like this; a mess. to ease his worries, he makes an even bigger mess of you.

𝅄 ༊࿐⠀ִ⠀this is my first time writing for a character that doesn't belong to me, haha. this drabble is all over the place, goes from point a to point b really quickly. still, i hope you enjoy this self-indulgence as much as i did 𖦹 ´ ᵕ ` 𖦹

ily soonie for lending me moon jae! i'm looking to even more fics of him and for more of your works! i love every bit of your works <33 !!

cw: mdni. reader is mentioned to have a dick. spanking (mentioned once), overstimulation, dick squirting, dumbification, inserting plot in porn is not my best suit.

"...ngh." you choke on your moans. saliva coated the necktie that's stuffed in your mouth. you think you're going to throw up. you sure drank a lot tonight together with your co-workers and your team manager. you were drunk enough to forget you had a boyfriend at home, waiting for your return. "jae—hnghh... m' gohnna—"

slap!

you whimpered at the harsh slap of his thick, veiny palm on your round ass cheek. you cried, sobbing in humiliation as your dick squirts cum.

your boyfriend’s resounding chuckle made your hips twitch, and your thighs quiver. he rested his palm on your redden ass cheek, caressing it softly with a pinch. his other hand's three digits deep inside your tight hole, pressing against the bundle of nerves as you twitch in overstimulation. "that quick?"

you pant, the pillow under your dick was soaked in your cum. your dress shirt's drenched in sweat, and your underwear's hanging on your ankle. you were a perfect mess; a mess only meant for moon jae. his alone.

seeing you walk inside the house, face flushed, hair messy, and your collar button undone made him feel irritated. you let others see this side of you—the side that was only meant for him, not anyone else.

"i came..." you let your tie fall down as you swallow your saliva, gulping oxygen. "for... five times—"

"let's make it six?" the condescending tone in his voice paired with the sudden thrust of his fingers inside you made your stomach tingle, your insides tighten around his fingers. your soften dick twitched to life as you cried on his lap. god, you loved his fingers. so thick, so big, and soft. he took great care of his hands despite his nonchalance for important things.

"... can't anym'..." you sobbed, bound hands tied together by the cuffs jae bought a while back for you, a congratulatory present for your promotion. you thought back then, if he had the money to buy such an expensive, mundane item, then why is he relying on you for expenses?

he shushed you, hissing through his teeth as he pats your head, slowly picking up the pace of his fingers. "you can, doll. you will." he promises you with his fingers entangled in your hair. "lift your hips for me."

his whispered promise did wonders to your almost stupefied brain. it's times like these that you forget all rationale thought and give in to his whims, bending your joins and going along to his rhythm like a doll. you forget that this man has not only been freeloading off of you, but he has constantly wronged you in the past. still, instead of kicking him our of your house and your life for good, you suddenly are on your hands and knees, taking his length like a good whore. he'll whisper apologies, whisper unfulfilled promises into your ear as he cums in you, filling up every crevice he can and will reach.

he imprints himself in you, making sure that the claws of his talons will put you in your place. make you stay in the nest you built, never letting you go.

"ffuuuckkk—" your tounge lols out of your mouth, the tip of it peeking out as your eyes gradually lose focus. you grip the cushion of the couch beneath your fingertips, trying to find purchase in the unbearable waves of pleasure that came crashing down on you, pulling you in with utter ecstasy. "shoo ghoood... ah—sho fucking good—"

"yeah? you like it?" he leans down, towering over your quivering upper half on his lap. there was a satisfied smile on his face, a grin stretched wide enough for it to look unsettling. he pistons his fingers inside you, lube and the cum he shoved in you from your previous orgasms sloshed and squirts out from your hole. you can't think of anything else but the fingers inside you, messing you up no other people could ever do. he makes sure of that.

"'ove it s'much..." you whimpered, fucked out dumb. your mutters were almost incoherent, the slapping of his fingers in you and your juices squelching were louder than your hoarse voice. "don'wan you ... hng—'t stop..."

"you don't want to?" you shake your head as he tuts, gripping your jaw and shoving two of his fingers inside, playing with your lax tounge. "use your words, doll. you know i like it when you're vocal."

"dohn'wann ... shtap–" you suck on his fingers, toes curling as both of his fingers fuck you in unison. your eyes roll back, your insides spasms in pure bliss. your body goes lax, too tired to fight off the pleasure that's being instilled in your bones.

you barely register the laugh moon jae released. for him, this was the best version of you. you were uptight, organized, prim, and proper. he remembered the day he met you. it was at a highschool reunion get-together party. you were like any other corporate slave, you were dull in every way possible. you were bland and boring, you didn't catch his eye.

he went out of the party to smoke, and he saw you squatting down on the smoking area, puffing a cigarette. he didn't pay you any mind. you were no one to him. but that night, if he hadn't forgotten his lighter; if he hadn't teased you back then; if you hadn't reacted that way to a light-hearted question back then...

"you kept staring at me." he remembers the slightest widening of your eyes, your mouth parting a little big bigger than it was supposed to. "do you like me?"

oh. jae thought as the tips of your ears flush, your lips in a weird wobbly shape as you stare at him wide-eyed, like a deer caught in the headlights. like a doll you caught suddenly moving to life. oh.

"—ae! hnngg!" your little squeal snapped him out of his reverie. he had four fingers up in you now, fingers pressing against your sweet spot as you tremble on his lap. your hips moving on their own as you beg him to keep moving, to give you another deliciously painful release.

he blinked, drinking the sight of you in. he was right. you looked best when you're like this. you looked absolutely ethereal, being ruined by him.

"nghh—jaeeee..." you whined his name, lifting your head up, using your arms to support you as your flushed face greets him. the tear streaks on your chin with the shine of your unshed tears made his heart skip a beat, his dick already angry and hardened on his pants. god, he wants to ruin you over, and over, and over again. "hurry up... 'm sorry for getting drunk ... please let me cum ..."

how can he deny you when you're this gorgeous?

moon jae stares at you a little longer, grinning at your confused, fucked out, expression before resuming his assault on your body. you squeal in shock, your moans could rival church choirs with how angelic they sound. he sighs in content, feeling you squirt again. but instead of halting, he kept going. he kept caressing your walls, kept drilling into you even as you wet the couch with your lust.

"that's right. that's a good boy." he says it in such a gentle tone, your body quivers. he smiles, satisfied. "i'm the only one who gets to see you like this. okay?"

and just like that, you find yourself stuck inside a glass box of obsession made by your dollkeeper. only showing what he wants others to show and keeping you for himself when people leave. you will always be stuck in this glass box, lest he gets tired of you.

you let the pleasure take off your thoughts, tears falling down your cheeks like water droplets from leaf dews. you will never be free from your glass box.

[ace-turned-confused]

shiftin' gear | part one

joel masterlist | series masterlist

pairing: mechanic!joel x f!reader series outline: a slacker of a boyfriend, no job, and now your car needs serious maintenance. heading to the mechanic’s, you’re just expecting him to rid you of your car troubles and move on — you’re certainly not expecting him to change your life chapter summary: your dad finally takes you to have your car fixed, where you meet joel miller — dangerously handsome and charming beyond words word count: 3,7k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied and wears a dress, description of a rather useless boyfriend, strained father-daughter relationship, probably highly incorrect information about cars, smutty thoughts a/n: i watched one single fifteen minute video about changing brakes, so if anyone needs a bootleg mechanic you can hmu and i'll be there 🫡 endless hugs & head pats to @frannyzooey for not only all the help on this chapter, but all the kindness & encouragement overall 💜

Your car’s had warning lights on for probably a dangerous amount of time. You’d told your dad numerous times what was going on, not that it mattered all that much to him because the car still gets you from A to B and maybe if you drove a bit more delicately then these things wouldn’t need maintenance so often.

If you turn the music up loud enough it just drowns all that out – both the warnings and your dad’s constant berating. Coming home one night, you try one last time to ask him for help.

“Some jackass cut right across me on the freeway, I made sure he knew exactly what I thought of him though. Lucky I didn’t fly out through the windshield when I slammed on my brakes, considering there's more warnings on my dash than on a fuckin’ storm-season weather report.”

That seemed to do the trick, God, if only you’d done this a month ago. Suddenly he was scouring his search and call history for some mechanic he’d been to for his own car – “Miller’s Auto Repair”, though he doesn’t know who the Miller in question is, saying he dealt with some young boy named Eddie with greasy hair and stains on his shirt to match.

He found some time in his oh-so-busy schedule to go with you. Was he about to lecture you on your attitude? Definitely, but at least your car’s going to be fixed.

-

You park in the street behind your dad and haul yourself out of your car, walking up to meet him. Taking in the place, it looks decent enough – tools scattered around, a young guy working on a car on a lift, plastic chairs and a steel leg table off to one side. Maybe decent is a slight exaggeration, but it’s spacious and airy and doesn’t reek of sweat and toxic masculinity. You’re certainly out of place, the sun blazing down on you in your simple daisy-print dress and you feel slightly overdressed.

An older man comes out of a partitioned-off room, the drywall not quite reaching the rafters and sheet metal above. He’s wearing well-fitted and surprisingly chic black coveralls — a hint of skin peeking from behind the lapel, cuffs buttoned up below his elbows, belt around his hips and there are even pleats in the pant legs. And you thought you were overdressed. You mindlessly smooth out your dress, suddenly feeling like you haven’t made enough of an effort.

It’s not that you were expecting someone unattractive, but the man waltzing towards you is criminally handsome — if only you could find a boy your own age who looked like this. A part of you is actually jealous your dad found this place before you did.

He reaches out to both you and your father with a firm handshake, “Name’s Joel. What can I do for ya?”

“My daughter here’s been having some car troubles.” He gestures to you and you notice Joel gives you a once-over and nods.

Taking the silence as your queue to speak, you start listing everything gone wrong with your car. “First it told me the brake pads need changing, and that was about, what, six weeks ago now?” You glare at your dad, your tongue in your cheek and arms tight across your chest.

“Told you I’ve been busy, you know this.” He matches your look and you turn your attention back to Joel, rolling your eyes and he smirks ever so slightly.

“Aircon needs regassing, and the headlights don’t seem to want to go bright anymore.”

“Well, lights and aircon are quick fixes, can do both right now for you, not expensive. I’ll take a look at the brakes and see if we have sets here that’ll work and let you know about that.”

Your dad excuses himself when his phone starts ringing, leaving you alone with Joel.

“So why’d you bring your dad with? You seem capable enough to me.” He crosses his arms, tilting his head.

“I’d rather not have some macho mechanic clock me from a mile away, and end up getting handled for knowing fuck all about cars. No offence.” Joel smiles at your brash commentary, leaning closer towards you. “Wouldn’t do that to a pretty girl like you. Cute dress, those your favourite?”

You’re not quite sure what he’s talking about, to be honest — a fog came over your mind after ‘pretty girl’ fell from his lips and you stand there in silence, mouth hanging open in a daze.

He leans to the side and points to your chest, snapping you back to reality. “The daisies on your dress? That your favourite flower?”

“Oh! No, uh…” Your voice fades off, unsure of what to do about the heat creeping up your neck and into your ears.

 Joel just smirks at you. “You can bring in that car of yours onto the lift, sweetheart.”

You nod and start walking away, your dad ending his call and he’s already asking questions about the cost of all this work. Getting in your car again, you’re flustered. All this man has done is call you sweetheart and pretty once and it’s all you can think about. You pull your car up to the shop, lining up with the lift as best you can and roll down your window.

Joel leans into the open window with a slanted smile, voice low enough for just you to hear him, “Lined up perfectly there, just go slow and I’ll tell you when to stop,” and God if that doesn’t have your mind racing. You give him a weak smile and manoeuvre your car onto the lift, stopping when he raises his hand. Pulling the bonnet lever and climbing out, you move to stand with your dad again, stepping over discarded rags and dried oil stains.

Joel does what looks to you like a whole lot of fiddling and tapping and knocking of random car parts under the bonnet, and takes the light covers off to change the bulbs; he takes a wheel off and checks the brakes and you watch him the whole time. Skilled and calloused hands moving with ease, your mind wanders off to what else he’s good at with his hands. Crouching down to feel around a toolbox, his coveralls pull tight around his ass and thighs. That heat you felt a few minutes ago only getting worse just from watching him work, embarrassment washing over you – though not enough to look away.

Everything looks like it’s back in place and he lowers the lift, walking towards you and your dad. “Gas and bulbs are done, should be good as new now. Brakes you’re gonna have to come back for, though. Eddie just used the last of the pads and discs you need on that car there, but we can get 'em easily enough, should be here next week.” You nod at him, not sure if it’s easier to look him in the eye or avoid him altogether.

“And you can’t get them any sooner? Or, how long are these current ones gonna be safe for? I’m out of town again next week and–”

“It’s fine, next week is fine.” You put a hand out to cut your dad off and shake your head. You’re really not in the mood for his entitlement, and truthfully you’re looking forward to the chance to come here again without him.

“You gonna manage on your own?” he asks, his tone almost mocking and eyebrows raised.

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” you chirp back, voice curt and monotone.

“You sure?” Of course, he wasn’t going to believe you were capable.

“I’ll get Jake to come with me. It’s fine. Really.”

Right, Jake – your boyfriend. Someone you should’ve been thinking of a long time ago, when instead you were all but undressing Joel with your eyes, imagining the nice things he’d do for you, with you, to you.

You and Jake have been together just over a year now, slept together a handful of times, and all around he’s a decent guy. You met while you both were in training and were given the same placements for industry experience. He’s never done anything inherently bad to you, but lately, you’ve found yourself putting more and more distance between you — subconsciously initially, but now it feels more like a chore to spend time with him.

He’s been sweet and kind to you from the start, but it would be nice to have him make an effort every so often, brag about you, show you off. His grand plan for celebrating your anniversary was taking you out for lunch and calling it a day; if he visits while your dad’s around, the two of them spend more time talking than you do. It’s been about two months since he fucked you, if you could even call it that, and you’re tired of either faking an orgasm or reassuring him it’s fine you never came when you forget to put on the act at all.

You can’t picture someone like Joel giving you such mediocre treatment and being satisfied with that, living life so blissfully unaware.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your fog and you notice your dad’s already walked out.

“See you then,” and he retreats with a tilt of his head and a wink.

Fuck it’s going to be a long week.

-

Joel already texted your dad three days ago to say you could come in, and you’ve been oddly nervous about it, your mind racing: what’s gonna be the quietest time to go, I wonder if Joel will be too busy with another job, I should make sure I’m not wearing the same dress again. You even made sure you washed your hair the night before in preparation, scolding yourself the whole time – he’s some random guy fixing your car, not to mention you do have a boyfriend.

Eddie’s nowhere to be seen, Joel’s wearing those same coveralls and there’s music playing from a worktop speaker.

“Afternoon, princess,” he holds your door open, eyes following you across the room, just the same as the week before. “Thought you were bringing a friend – what was his name?”

Fingers toying with the hem of your top, you only hope you made the right decision coming here alone. You’re not worried about something that Joel would say or do, no, but worried about something you yourself might. You never were good at hiding your feelings; you pray he can’t see through you.

“Oh, Jake?” You could keep it a secret and enjoy Joel’s attention a while longer but weighing up your options, maybe it’s better to just be honest with him. “He’s my boyfriend. He was uh, busy… today. So, just me.” He doesn’t need to know you never even asked Jake to accompany you to begin with.

“Is it cool if I stay while you work?” you ask timidly. “I can get a ride home though, if you’d prefer.”

“It’s no trouble, here.” He pulls a stool towards you, wiping it off with a smile. Joel gets to work on your car and it’s like a show, just for you. Definitely the right choice to come alone, you smile to yourself.

“So this boyfriend of yours, what’s he like?” he shouts out from the far side of your car and your smile drops.

“Oh, uh… he’s nice.” He is nice, but you can’t be bothered to think of anything worthwhile to say about him.

Joel rounds your car to stop and look at you. “Sounds to me like you don’t want ‘nice’.” His eyes trail up and down your figure and you gawk at his remark. Okay, maybe he actually can see right through you.

“Well, my dad really likes him. Says it’s good to have someone to ground you, or whatever.” Joel simply nods in response and turns his attention back to your car.

You take the opportunity to really take him in this time, with no dad around as a source of shame. Thick curls that you would love to run your hands through, sculpted nose, well-trimmed moustache, grey and patchy scruff for a beard, wide back and broad shoulders and firm chest and—

God, you need to think of something else before you get carried away. Again. You look around the room to refocus on something more appropriate, taking in all the arbitrary decor. Dog-eared posters of old rock bands, exposed bulbs dotted between fluorescent lights, a chain of mini chequered flags strung up along the wall.

You risk another look at Joel and see he’s taken two wheels off already, doing more twisting and turning of car parts you never even knew were there in the first place.

“What’s that?”

He looks to you over his shoulder, coveralls pulling tight again over his arms and back.

“What, this? Called a calliper. Holds the brake pads that squeeze against the disc, stopping the car.” You purse your lips, nodding slowly and Joel huffs out a laugh, facing away again. “Got any siblings that need car part lessons?” He continues, “Or better yet, maybe they can teach you instead.”

“Nope, just me. What about you? Any other Millers gracing the town?” You see him shake his head and he chuckles to himself. 

“Got a brother, Tommy. He’s in construction. I worked with him a while back — much prefer this, though. What’s a girl like you do? Working your dream job?”

‘I’m uh, in between jobs, actually. I’m a chef — was a chef.” You look down to your lap, picking your nails. “I quit. Place was full of sexist dickheads. They suggested I put myself forward for promotion, then gave it to some egotistical asshole with both less experience and qualification. So I told them exactly where they could shove their promotion and never went back.”

You sigh and look up and see Joel’s already watching you, a faint smile on his face almost like he’s proud of you for standing your ground. His eyes are a mix of sympathy and understanding — not something you’re often on the receiving end of.

“I know I kinda fucked myself quitting like that, but I was tired of constantly being treated like shit. And not a fuck was I gonna stick around and take orders from a guy like that.” You crack a smile and Joel matches it.

“You keepin’ yourself busy?”

“Trying to figure out what’s next. Not sure if maybe I should do some more training somewhere, expand my skill set y’know, or just find another job. Not very easy with my dad breathing down my neck.” Joel nods, and his keen attention spurs you on. He’s one of few people who have actually listened to you about all this without giving you his own unwanted opinion or unsolicited advice.

“Only real silver lining is having time to pick up some old hobbies again. And talking to you, I guess.” Joel gives you a skew grin and you smile bashfully, lowering your gaze as you feel your cheeks redden.

“So what do you get up to when you’re not talkin’ to me, then?”

“Bits and pieces here and there. It’s been nice to get back into piano again.”

“Keen musician, are you? Play guitar myself, do a lot of the stuff that’s been playing here.”

The mental image of Joel playing guitar is not good for keeping your mind out of the gutter, and you're soon thinking about what one hand looks like plucking away at the strings, the other in a firm grip around the neck. One hand plucking away at you, the other in a firm grip around your neck. You stop yourself before that runs rampant in your mind, focusing on the song playing in the background.

“Wait, can you play In The Gallery?” You lean forward, eyebrows shooting up to your hairline, a grin spreading across your face in shock and amazement.

“You know this?” Joel points off in no direction, giving you the same bewildered look, and your expression changes from that of awe to insult.

“Of course I do, it’s Dire Straits. Look, I may know jack shit about cars but I do know other things. Do you sing, too?”

He shifts his weight to one leg, cocking his head to the side. “Do you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You flash a smile and he faces away again.

Joel’s bolted the front wheels back and is busy removing the rear ones when a phone starts ringing above the music.

“Hands a little full here. Can you answer? It’s just on the bench there.”

Your eyes widen slightly, but you stand and make your way to find it. Sliding to answer, you hold the phone to one ear and press a finger in the other to drown out the noise, slinking off towards Joel’s office.

-

Joel watches as you walk into his office, phone pressed into your ear. He’s been thinking about you since you arrived with your dad last week, and he’s glad to spend some time hearing what you have to say. And, you know, getting to really look at you without your dad around. 

He thought you looked beautiful in that dress last week — thought what you’d look like out in public with him in that same dress, with his jacket over your shoulders as the air grows cold, you writhing underneath him behind closed doors and waking up in his shirt next to him the following morning. He scolded himself when you drove off last week for allowing himself that indulgence, that twisted fantasy about a girl as young as you — but seeing how you are today, maybe he was right all along.

You’ve been staring at him since you parked, and the way you bite your bottom lip and openly ogle at him when you think he doesn’t notice tells him you’re thinking about the same things, too. 

You seemed shy, scared even, when you first stood in front of him, overshadowed by your father and his clear frustration with you. It seems you have no issue with pushing him, but he can see in the way you stand, closed off, and hear the unease in your constant defence that maybe this eats away at you more than you like to admit. He’s spent a mere two hours with you so far, and you shine when you’re free to say whatever you want, be whoever you want.

Your boyfriend Jake, however — he might be a challenge. Your smile faded when he was mentioned, saying your father’s fond of him, that he’s nice. Maybe you haven’t been together all that long, or on the contrary, been together too long, but if ‘nice’ is his most redeeming quality… He took your indifference and curt response as a sign to not push any further for now, but that boy, whoever he is, clearly doesn’t know how to keep a girl like you happy.

He’s considering fabricating some story of something else that needs repairs on your car just so you’d have a reason to come back, even if under false pretence. You probably would believe him given the evident gaps in your knowledge, but the risk of breaking your trust might not be worth it. He should keep his distance.

He focuses on the task at hand again and finds himself paying extra attention to his work. You won’t recognise good handiwork, but he knows you’ll be excited about having a fully functional car again. It’s not much, but seeing that winning smile spread across your face will be enough for him.

-

Much like Joel himself, it seems, his office is pleasantly well-kept, bar a few too many half-empty coffee mugs and stray papers littering the desk. A tatty plaid-print couch against the back wall, a mini fridge tucked next to the desk, a leather jacket hung over his chair. Blinds drawn and with no sign of Joel approaching, you trace your fingers across the collar, wondering what it would feel like hanging over your own shoulders, arms drowning in the too-long sleeves and you drowning in him.

You leave his office to walk back towards him and Joel raises his eyebrows questioningly, wiping his hands off on a rag. “So?”

“Woman named Hazel? She didn’t leave much of a message, she just asked if you could call her back. Said you’d have her number.” You hand the phone to him, his hands cool compared to the heat burning under your skin.

“Ah, guess I should,” he mumbles, a hand coming up to scratch the nape of his neck.

“Hm, so who’s Hazel? Is she pretty?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, a cheeky grin on your face.

Joel scoffs a laugh. “Nobody you need to worry about, not my type.” You feel an odd sense of assurance at his admission. “Well, everything’s done, you’re good to go. Your dad paid last week already.”

“And what about all the hard work you put into this? Surely I owe you something for that?”

“You spendin’ the afternoon was payment enough.” He smiles at you, eyes softening. “I’ll see ya round, sweetheart. Come by any time, I mean it. And hey, if you ever need a change of scenery, you’re welcome to come answer the phone for me.”

You’re not entirely sure if he’s seriously offering you a job or just passing it off as banter. It would get you out of the house and put a bit of extra cash in your pockets; you’d get to spend days on end around Joel, watch him work, and maybe get a glimpse into who he is beyond the charming mechanic you know so far. 

It would certainly test your resolve being so close to him. You consider all the afternoons that may look like the one you’ve just had — easy work, no Eddie or other customers around, just you and Joel and the tension between you. You suppose you’d have to find something to do to pass the time on days like these… Then again, do you really want to risk having him see you as just the girl who answers the phone?

Maybe you can fake something, an excuse to bring you back here to see him again. The ruse wouldn’t last long, not when Joel takes one look at the car and sees clear as day there’s nothing wrong, but you can pin it all on inexperience. Either way, you won’t be forgetting him any time soon.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[littlefireball]

ꜱʜ|ɢᴏᴏᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ (ᴍ)

ᴅᴏᴍ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ꜱᴜʙ ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ|ɴᴏ ᴘʟᴏᴛ|ᴅᴏᴍ & ꜱᴜʙ|ᴜꜱɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇx ᴛᴏʏ|

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.1ᴋ

Masterlist

Seonghwa is widely regarded as the most gentle and loving boyfriend in the world, and no one would dare to argue against that. He is incredibly caring towards those around him, and as his girlfriend, you are the fortunate recipient of his abundant affection. From cooking for you to drying your hair and ensuring your safety when out and about, his thoughtfulness knows no bounds. Your friends are envious of the wonderful partner you have in him.

However, this tenderness takes on a whole new, unexpected dimension when you find yourselves in the bedroom. Seonghwa reveals a side of himself that no one else has seen, a side that is known only to you.

"What are your safe words, babe?" he asks while searching for a suitable sex toy. He brought a lot of sex toys and wanted to use them all on you tonight.

"Same as always...silver," you reply, feeling a nervous flutter in your stomach.

"Good." He takes out a pink vibration with a smile. This is much different from the previous one─it's bigger, longer, and the main point is, the level setting is much higher. With your eyes blindfolded, darkness envelops you, heightening your other senses. Your limbs are secured with metal cuffs, tethering you to the four corners of the bed, leaving you naked and vulnerable.

As Seonghwa's footsteps recede, the sound of a drawer being opened fills the room. Though this is not your first time, you can't help but nervously bite your lip in anticipation.

"Relax, babe. Why so tense?" he soothes, planting a gentle kiss on your knee before trailing his fingertips from your thigh to your clit. The sensation makes you arch your back involuntarily, a mix of pleasure and anticipation coursing through you.

"Be good and you can get a reward, understand?"

"Ye...yes." He then set a vibration to the lowest level first, not wanting to give you a sudden excitement or hurt you. "You can take it, right?"

"Yes...plea─hiss...fuck" Your words are cut off when he pushes the vibration inside you. He doesn't push all the way in, just the tip. Watching you squirm and arch your back to adjust the size makes him satisfied, he loves it.

"Sir...sir...its so big..."It's so full, leaving no space in your cunt. "My baby is so impatient, huh?" He enjoys the way you beg, the way your body writhes when you're unsatisfied, the way you moan messily as you climax. He can even reach climax just from his imagination.

With a hiss and a groan, you arch your back and curl your toes as he thrusts deeper. Moving back and forth, he lightly grazes your sweet spot, teasing you. He knows you crave more friction, more intensity, more depth but he doesn't want to satisfy you before you beg. He moves painfully slowly, watching how you pant heavily and sweat dripping off you. You whine and push your ass forward, wanting the vibration goes deeper. Of course, Seonghwa won't let you be satisfied.

He pulls out the vibration and makes you whine in sudden emptiness. The tip slightly touches your clit, circling and moving up and down.

"Sir, please," you gasp and bend your legs, finally begging the man in front of you.

"Please what? I need to hear it," he demands, still teasing your clit.

"Fuck me harder, please. I'll be good, I promise."

"You're so eager, aren't you? Don't regret what you beg me." He stares at your face when he sets the vibration to the highest level, thrusting in one smooth motion.

"Shitttt!!!"

The vibration is very strong and spreads to every corner of the body. Your moans grow louder, your breath quickens, caught off guard by the sudden change. He smirks at your reaction, driving in deeper, causing your body to writhe and a knot to form in your stomach.

"Don't you dare climax until I say so," he warns, observing the blush on your face. You obey, fighting the urge to release.

"Sir...sir...ah...fuck...!" You are moaning messily, not knowing what you want to say. Only choppy groaing and screaming leave your lips;your juices keep flowing out even dripping on the sheet and the vibration. You are so close.

"Please, sir...I can't. Let me cum pretty please."

"Oh? Then you need something to cool you down."The clinking of metal and the splashing of water bring you back to reality, his breath tickling your bare skin, followed by the chilling sensation on your stomach.

"Hmm!" The coldness makes you squirm and gives you goosebumps. You are struggling to get used to this weird feeling, panting heavily.

With his mouth, he moves the ice from your stomach to your chest, all the while continuing the intense vibrations inside you, eliciting erratic moans from you. The juxtaposition of cold and warmth surging through your body pushes you to the brink.

"Sir, please, I...ah~" You struggle to form a coherent sentence, your back arched, lost in messy moans.

"Cum for me now," his voice no longer gentle, but filled with desire and dominance, leaving you no room for refusal. You climax intensely, a loud moan escaping your lips, but it's not over yet. He removes the vibrator and unlocks your handcuffs.

"Sit up, my dear," he instructs, inserting the silver dildo into your core, hitting a new angle of pleasure.

"Fuck yourself and cum." Handing you the dildo, he sits before you, watching as you pleasure yourself. You move the dildo back and forth and throw your head to the back, exposing your beautiful upper body and the rising and falling chest due to heavy panting.

You can't tell how much time has passed and how many times you cum on the dildo, but only knowing the man seems not to be satisfied until you pass out from exhaustion.

"Hmm..please...sir...I─ha...I can't..." "Ok, ok, you can stop now." He pulls out the dildo, pushes you to the bed, locks your both hands again.

"You are so good for me, darling." He leaned down to drop a kiss on your forehead. "But it's just a foreplay." He takes out a new sex toy that you have never seen before.

"Wanna try?" He's playing with the toy while walking to you. That's not asking, but demanding. You have no room to object yet those two orgasms have left you exhausted.

"Hmm...hwa... I'm tired."

"Oh babe, just one more time, hm? And you can get a reward." He leans down again and pushes the toy into your cunt slightly.

Your mouth opens with an 'O' shape and you roll your eyes at the back.

"Yes...sir...please, fuck me..."

"So good for me." He makes out with you before pushing the toy deeper and deeper...

tag list: @angelsaway

[fanaticsnail]

Restrained

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,300+

Synopsis: Eustass Kid didn't know what possessed him to allow his lover to restrain him against his Captains' chair. But yet, here he is: stuck and loving it.

Themes: MDNI, smut, established relationship, Sub!kid x Dom!reader, gn!reader, nipple play - Kid receiving, untouched reader, untouched Kid.

Notes: I don't know why I needed to do this, but I did. He's just crept up on me. Send help. Something about large, powerful men being made to squirm. Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @carrotsunshine

Eustass Kid's eyes widened, his muffled voice growling past the material of the woven gag. Saliva coated his chin, his red paint far from present within the boarder lines of his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he continued to strain against the seastone cuffs that bound his ankles to the chair legs.

Woven rope cinched tightly beneath his armpits, his right arm was bound to the backrest of the chair, while his stumped left was coiled tightly and restrained against the side of the chair.

Why did he agree to this again? What was the safety signal again? He just felt helpless, small, stuck - restrained.

As his eyes met with yours, your wicked smile crept up to decorate your face with suggestive intent. Your fingertips gently traced his scarred cheek, trailing down his jaw to brush lightly against his clavicle bone. As your fingertips trailed delicately lower against his chest, he writhed beneath your hand as it barely skimmed over his left nipple.

His belt buckle jingled as he attempted to greedily seek your touch where he desperately craved it. The waistband of his decorative pants and underwear fell further down his knees to pool at his boot-covered feet. The swollen tip of his angry cock throbbed, twitching in anticipation as it stood alert to receive its orders.

You remained fully clothed, your smile now softening into a small smirk. Your thumb casually traced over his left nipple once more, watching as Kid mewled within his gag and arched his back. His eyes widened further in shock as the first few droplets of pearly precum gathered in the slit of his cock.

This was the first time you had suggested such a thing: finally being the one in control for once. After much negotiating, and back and forth with what exactly that means, Kid agreed to be a willing puppy and accept all that he was given by your hands.

And what he was given was shibari restraint within his Captains’ chair, a gag thrust in between his lips, seastone cuffs attached to his ankles and a verbal reminder that, should he ever wish to stop, he was to tap his right heel three times firmly on the floor.

“Does that feel good, big guy?” you purred your sultry whisper into his left ear, “Like feeling my fingers on your sensitive nipples?”

Flicking your thumb over his left nipple, you began to focus your attention on his right: pinching it lightly between your index and middle finger. In scissoring motions, you rolled the tender skin between your secondary knuckles: always gentle, always soft, always tender.

Kid was panting heavily now, brows knit in a deep furrow with sweat pooling beneath the band of his blast goggles. Scrunching his eyes tightly shut, his black eyeliner began to smudge with a mixture of glassy tears at the stimulation he was and wasn't receiving.

The dance of his untouched cock bobbing in the air, veins pulsating with desire, held your attention for a moment: debating whether you should pay the poor, neglected boy some attention. Your smile widened as you chose to continue your negligence, focussing solely on his nipples.

You straddled his lap, hooking your thighs over his knees and intentionally keeping any stimulus away from his needy cock. He cried out in muffled desperation, opening his tightly scrunched eyes and begging you with his accusatory gaze.

The twitch of his knob enchanted you, watching as the blood rush deepened the hue and had his breath hitching.

“Am I not treating you well?” you taunted him with a mocking pout, “Too much and too little all at once?”

He bobbed his head frantically, his mind dizzy with the focus of his sensation being so far from his cock. He truly did not understand why this zone of his body had the pit of his stomach coiling within his belly, his balls sucked up deep within his stomach and the tip of his cock twitching like he was about to explode.

“You think this is too much,” you commented in a low hum, “Just wait until you feel this.”

Leaning down, you licked a clean stripe with the tip of your tongue down his left pectoral, rolling his right nipple within your thumb and index finger as you thumbed over his left. He mewled, keening and whimpering like a needy puppy as he tucked his head into his shoulder to avoid your eyes.

His breath hitched, his cock straining as his mind fogged. Your flattened tongue ground itself against the sensitive nub of his left nipple, before you swirled the tip in skillful circles. He honestly felt like the pit in his stomach was about to burst. He clamped his eyes shut once more, blood flooding to his cheeks: dusting his skin with a warm hue of vibrant red.

Tugging and sucking at the flesh had him writhing in his seat: gyrating, thrusting, and circling to attempt to rub his touch-starved cock against any surface to provide it stimulus. You giggled against his flesh before vibrating a hum into his peaked nipple.

He almost forgot how to breathe, the feelings were too overwhelming for him to process. You released his nipple from your mouth with an overemphatic ‘pop’, Kid’s eyes reopening to meet his whisky-hue orbs with your own. His irises were almost completely missing, the dark onyx of his pupils claiming dominance against his eyes.

Floating your eyes between his own, briefly fluttering down to his gagged mouth, you leaned forward and pressed a small kiss against his lips. The kiss was chaste, his lips barely being able to meet with your own beneath the woven gag. Pulling away, you smiled at him while still flicking at his right nipple.

Without tearing your eyes from his, you leant down to his left nipple once more. Kid held his breath, fully expecting you to toy with him with your lips and tongue. What you did instead was lean forward, hover your lips in a perfect circle, and blew a lengthy breath of cold air against the saliva coated surface of his left nipple.

The band snapped within his stomach; the sudden shocked arrival of an unsuspecting orgasm erupting from the swollen tip of Kid’s impressive cock had his voice crying out for you. You pulled away from his nipples, sensing a twitch in his thigh that only ever occured when he was about to explode in passion.

Thick ropes of his cum spent itself on his stomach, smaller squirts of pearly, translucent droplets spurted within the air and coated his pubic hair at the base of his shaft. His thick, red pubic hair was marked by his sticky cum: coating each strand with his passionate release.

Cries of his bliss were caught within the material of the saliva-dampened gag, halting the true sobs and whimpers he was desperately screaming in gratitude to you. Your shock was evident in your eyes, a surprised smile swelled up to your cheeks as you watched this impressively larger man become undone without any stimulus to his quivering cock.

Huffing and panting, the final spurts of his spend leaked from his shiney tip, pooling down his velvety shaft with several whimpering twitches. You cooed at him in awe, softly pressing a small kiss against the apple of his cheek as you halted the pressure on his nipples.

“Aww, that was so cute!” you chirped at him, his eyes snapping open with his brows triangulating in the center of his forehead, “You wanna do it again?”

His right heel bounced frantically against the floor, indicating in panic that he was completely and totally unprepared to have that occur again. You giggled with your head nodding, hands presenting your palms upwards in defense before removing the gag from your lover’s lips.

“Okay, big guy,” you smiled at him, tugging down the material and shimmying it down his chin, “How do you feel?” you caressed his cheeks, pressing gentle kisses against his temple and forehead.

“Like I-...” he choked on his words, glancing down at the mess coating his lap and chair, “...like I shouldn't have liked that as much as I did.”

[eyesxxyou]

❝ sunshine ❞ (hobie brown x male!reader)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. hobie x male!reader. reader pretends to hate dislike hobie. gay longing. denial of feelings. oral (m receiving). handjob. lots of kissing. hobie being kinda pushy. you have a list of reasons why you don't like hobie brown but you never thought being locked in the closet with him would make you reconsider if your reasons are actually all the reasons why you like him.

tags: @hoe-bie @zyonsay

You didn’t hate Hobie.

It was a claim that most of your friends made when your name and his happened to appear in the same sentence. You must make the record clear. You did not hate Hobie Brown. You found him irritating from time to time, sure, with the way he carried himself with a careless sway, the way he spoke with an undue amount of confidence in everything he said. He laughed fully and obnoxiously, he challenged people without remorse, he instigated fights that never needed to happen in the first place. Hobie was not one to keep the peace, not like you who’d rather avoid all confrontation and conflict if possible.

You watched him spread out against your couch, a joint hanging from his full lips while smoke kissed his slender face. He was in the middle of making a bet that he would wipe everyone in a game of beer pong. He talked such a big game and when it came down to it, everyone being divided up into teams, you somehow ended up with Hobie as your partner as some kind of sick joke on you. It was known that you weren’t good at games like these and Hobie insisted that it would be okay because “I’ll carry ya, it’ll be no sweat.”

You didn't know how the idea came up – probably due to Hobie's endless search to make things far more complicated than need be – but the idea of making it strip beer pong became the consensus among your friends group. “And whicheva team loses has to spend an hour in y/n’s room!” Your friends giggled amongst themselves while you stood there completely perplexed at how things had dwindled out of your favor so swiftly. He was so good at convincing others to go along with him no matter how deranged the idea. He once convinced everyone that it was a good idea to go to the roof of your building while everyone was drunk, the only reason no one died was because you were sober enough to keep everyone safe.

You jabbed your elbow into Hobie’s side, eyes alight with fury. “Why the fuck would you say that?” You hissed between your teeth at him. “Not true! No one will be spending the night in my room!”

Hobie’s arm was suddenly around your shoulders, pulling you in and shaking you gently. “Come awn. Don’ be a buzzkill, sunshine. It’ll be fun, no harm in i’.” He leaned in close, smelling of smoke, musk, and faded cologne. Your body tensed against him and without thought, you retracted from him, a scowl curling onto your lips as you looked him up and down. “Not my bedroom y’all, anywhere but my bedroom.”

“Fine, the closet.” Hobie settled the matter right then and there. “Can we get on wit’ i’?” He was already taking more plastic cups to set out on the table, rushed to get on with the fun and prove himself better than everyone else.

Turns out, Hobie absolutely sucked at beer pong too. He could not aim for shit and every missed shot meant an article of clothing removed for the two of you. It started out innocently, vests and jackets, shoes, socks, cuffs and collars. But with each ping pong that bounced off the rim of a cup, more essential clothing began to come off.

Hobie just narrowly missed a shot for one of the back cups and with a playful sigh, he grasped the hem of his torn-up, worn-out shirt and pulled it up over his head and tossed it down on the floor beside him. You glanced at his exposed torso, the smooth skin of his diaphragm leading to his firm naval. The faint outline of abs show themselves through that soft-looking skin of his. A thin line of hair began at his belly button and trailed down to the waist of his low-hanging pants which were next on the hanging line if he missed his next shot.

You turned your flustered gaze away from his toned body and focused on your own shot.

You were down to your own shirt and pants, not being all that great at beer pong yourself. You rocked between your feet, ‘I’m fucked’. You knew you were. There was no coming back from a loss like this one and when you looked to Hobie, hissing at him, “What the hell happened to you being a god at this?”

“Yeah, I guess I shoulda told’ja that I neva played this before we started.” You could have punched him if not for the way he looked at you and offered a lop-sided smile. It offered a mischievous apology, he meant it but not enough. There was something so charming about it, so easy-going.

It was almost certain that you two would lose and by the time you two were left in just your boxers in front of everyone, you had long lost hope for the idea that you wouldn’t be locked in a closet with Hobie for the rest of the night.

Your closet wasn't the biggest, especially with all the clothes in there. At best the two of you would have a few inches of space between you. You didn't want to feel his skin pressed against yours, didn't want his breath fanning your cheek, didn't want to acknowledge he was right there at all times constantly.

Hobie took it all with an air of light-hearted fun as your friends shoved the two of you into your bedroom closet and slid a nearby dresser in front to ensure the two of you couldn't get out until they chose.

Why did the closet seem so much smaller than you remembered? Why was Hobie so close to you? You hid yourself partially in your hanging clothes and crossed your arms across your bare chest. The rules said you two couldn't put on any clothes, you'd just have to sit there half-naked and embarrassed.

Hobie busied himself rummaging through your clothes, humming in approval at those he liked. “No way, you kept this?” He plucked a shirt from your assortment of clothing to reveal a shirt he had made for you. Hand-sewn and everything. “I though’ ya woulda thrown it in the rubbish as soon as I wasn't lookin’.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and snatching the shirt from him to hold it to your chest. You’d never give him the satisfaction of telling him but you regularly slept in this shirt. It was a very thoughtful gift and you didn't want it to go to waste but you furthermore didn't want to give Hobie a big head by wearing it in front of him. “Why would I do that? Only an asshole would do something like that.”

Hobie shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Everyone says ya hate me, sunshine.”

“You don't sound like you believe that.” You notice how Hobie wades a little closer to you, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body. A subtle smirk teased his lips as he looked at your shrinking frame. “Nah, I don'. I think ya like me, actually. A lot.”

Your eyes widened and your body reacted with vigor. “Absolutely not!” You denied it with fervor as Hobie approached further. “I- I have no idea why you’d ever think that!” you backed up until your back met the wall and you could go no further. You babbled on. “Hobie, you know I'm not–”

Your breathing shuddered as Hobie pressed his hand to your shoulder before sliding his palm to the spot between your jaw and neck. “If no’, lemme try somefin’ then.” He leaned in slowly, giving you all the opportunity to push him away from you but you don't, you’re frozen in shock, unsure of what to do. You let him ease his lips into yours and kiss you softly.

You’ve never been kissed by another man before, never thought yourself to like it as much as you did. Never thought you’d like being kissed by Hobie of all people. You shouldn't be doing this and you realize it the moment Hobie parts his lips and lets his tongue trace the seam of your lips.

It breaks you from the trance he placed you under and you push him back. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You mean to say it in anger but you can't find the conviction in your voice. You’re feeling hot and unable to breathe as you look at him with wild eyes. He looks rather pleased with what he’s discovered.

“If it makes ya feel any betta, sunshine. I like ya too.”

“I’m not gay, Hobie. You know I’m not. I’ve had girlfriends.”

Hobie scoffed. “Havin’ a girl doesn' make ya straight, ya know that. Hell, I’ve had girlfriends, don' make me like men any less.”

“I don't like you, Hobie!” You have to say it clear, say it loud to get it through that thick head of his and to further convince yourself that you don't like him either. “I think you’re loud, obnoxious. I think you're too carefree. I think you need to exercise a little caution from time to time. I find you irritating as hell. I-” You think of all the reasons why you can't stand him. He’s too nonchalant, too gorgeous, too much. “I hate the way you look everyone in the eyes like you’re ready to prove them wrong. I hate how you’re so touchy feely. I can't stand you!”

Hobie glances down and a smile crept into his face. “Ya hard as fuck righ’ now, mate. Thinkin’ a lil’ too much about me, are ya?”

You look down as well and embarrassingly find a firm bulge in your underwear. You’ve never felt so humiliated in your life because you know this all too well. You know that thinking too much about Hobie, no matter how much you tell yourself you can't stand him, it always leads to this, a hard-on more firm than any time you’ve been with a woman.

No, no, you couldn't like Hobie, not like that.

“Ya need help with tha’?” Hobie approached you once again as you turned away from him to hide your raw embarrassment. “N- no, stay away from me.” You know erections like these can last indefinitely and you know Hobie touching you would only make it worse.

Hobie ignored your pleas for him to stay away and let you handle things. His hands stroked your cheek gently and you turned just enough for him to kiss you once again. It was harder this time, more sure of what was once just a hypothetical.

You let out a shaky breath against his soft lips and Hobie took the chance to slide his tongue between your lips. This time, you do nothing to stop him. The rest of your body turned to face him and suddenly your figure is pressed against his, your cock stroking his thigh just enough to cause some friction. It was enough to make you moan against Hobie’s hot mouth, his tongue stroking and licking at yours in between pants.

“Lemme help ya ou’ here.” Hobie murmured against your lips and he parted from you. HIs lips peppered kisses against your neck and down the front of your throat as one hand settled on your hip and the other slipped past the band of your underwear to find the length of your cock.

You let out a shudder as he wrapped his hand around your member and gave it a couple of gentle strokes before pulling it from your underwear. With another kiss just below your earlobe, Hobie lowered himself down on his knees in front of your weeping cock, his hand still tugging and stroking the slick head. “Relax, sunshine, I’ve got’cha.”

You watched him kiss the aching tip and card his tongue against your slit before taking the head into his mouth and suckling softly. It earned him something of a shaking sigh of relief as you let your eyes fall shut and your head fall back against the wall. Your hand came to cradle the back of his head but you didn’t push him to go further. You had a sick feeling that Hobie knew exactly what he was doing.

He hummed softly beneath you and sank further down until his lips met the base of your length and you settled in his throat where he swallowed over and over and over. Your eyes rolled and fluttered as you tossed a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. You looked down at him to find a sultry, hooded gaze looking back at you. You could see the way he smiled with his eyes, he would have teased you if not for your dick stuffed down his throat. In his own way, he was teasing you, with the flat of his tongue and that tight throat of his.

He bobbed his head up and down your length, taking the full of it each time he pushed his head down until his lips kissed your hilt. His large, slender hands were on your hips, pulling you in each time he pushed his head forward.

God, you were losing your mind. His mouth was so hot and his inner cheeks were soft as your tip slid against them along the way down the tightness of his throat. You couldn't help but think about how gorgeous he looked down there on his knees and felt more blood rush to your groin.

You’ve never felt an orgasm come so swiftly. Your breath labored with the pull at your abdomen and your hand on Hobie’s head pushed him further down. “Please, please, please.” You whispered as Hobie licked at a vein along the underside of your cock. “‘m gonna-”

You could hardly get it out of your throat before you came. Your member pulsed in Hobie’s mouth and thick ropes of cum coated the inside of his cheeks and his soft tongue. You groaned softly, your head falling back and lulling to the side. Your knees almost buckled with how good it felt.

You had never cum so fast, so hard, and you found yourself embarrassed over the whole thing. Why had you let him do that to you? Why had you let him prove you so wrong? Why had you let him completely rattle your entire life and force you to reconsider everything you thought about himself?

Hobie stood up and kissed you, his tongue searching for yours. He forced you to taste yourself, a swapping of saliva and cum between your mouths. It was filthy, disgusting, but so hot that you let him shove his tongue into your mouth and do whatever he pleased with you.

“Stop thinkin’ for a minute.” Hobie could hear the gears in your head churning of what you had just let him do to you. You have a slow nod as he nipped at your bottom lip and pulled you closer, pressing the firmness of his cock against yours.

You kissed him sloppily, until drool began to seep from the cracks of where your lips met. His skin was so warm against yours and for a moment you forgot about the fact that Hobie was a guy. You were just two warm bodies locked together in a closet searching for intimacy.

Whatever the two of you did here didn't have to leave this closet. You wouldn't let it, no matter what. The moment you were let out of this closet, you’d go back to how things once were and let everything fall perfectly back into place.

Hobie rocked his body into yours while you reached down between the two of you to pull his length out of his underwear and stroke his cock in your hand. You were timid about it, nervous as you thumbed at his slit and rubbed his precum-coated tip.

He encouraged you to continue, pushing his hips into your hand as he moaned into your mouth. His hand was on the wall above your head, bracing himself as you flicked your wrist and tightened your grip a little as your hand traveled the path up and down the length of his slick cock.

His hips thrusted into your hand as he broke your kiss. Hobie hissed softly, looking down and watching the way he used your hand, the way you were going more and more confident in the way you stroked him and circled your thumb over his tip.

His body shuddered and you found it so much hotter than you should. Hobie used his free hand to grab your face and force you to look at him in the eyes. You shifted your gaze the moment they found his.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, look a’ me, sunshine.” He moved his head to find your gaze again. “Yer doin’ so well.” He let out between panting breaths. He could tell your were flustered, face hot at the sight of him fucking your hand. You almost stopped when Hobie grabbed your chin again and made you fix your gaze on him once more. “Don' look a’ tha’, look a’ me.”

You do as he says and look him in those pretty, deep-set eyes of his. He nipped at his lip piercing looking at you and moaned softly. He was falling apart in your hold, his eyes barely able to remain open, and yet you felt completely out of control.

He grabbed you up again, forced his mouth onto yours while you jerked him faster, harder. It was sloppy and chaotic, just how he liked it. He wanted you to want him the way he wanted you, carnally and you did. You wanted his hands all over your body, you wanted him to say your name when he came, you wanted him to be a girl so maybe this didn't feel so bad to you.

Things would be so much easier if he were just a girl. You wouldn't have to feel shame over this, wouldn't have to hide the fact that you wanted him ferally behind thinly veiled reasons why you disliked him. Those reasons just being all the reasons you really, really wanted him.

Hobie came against your stomach, still kissing you between feverish pants into your mouth. He hummed softly as he broke away from you. “Ma bad, couldn' help i'.” Even now he was so thoroughly okay with everything that transpired here, so okay with himself, with you. All the while you couldn't even bear to look at him as you grabbed one of your many shirts tucked away in the back of the closet to clean yourself up with.

You decided then and there that what happened in here would stay in here. You would say nothing to anyone about it and you certainly wouldn't be doing it again. Things could fall neatly back into place and this could fall into the back of your mind without so much as a hitch.

If only Hobie would make it so easy for you.